Twist of Fate
*0:17:00 REMAINING*
Jake! Rachel cried. Where are you?
There was no answer. Only darkness and silence.
Jake! Demorph! Tobias called.
He fell down the slope, Ax said. I saw the tiger's silhouette in the dracon's red light. He went over the edge.
Tobias went through a complicated list of well-chosen bad words.
Watch your tongue, Rachel snapped warningly.
Maybe, Tobias replied, for the moment completely indifferent to his language. Ax? We need night-eyes.
Ax nodded (which was still a useless gesture when no-one can see anything) and began morphing the owl.
Jake! Rachel called again. You okay?
If he fell all the way down, he's history, Tobias remarked.
Tobias? Rachel said. We all enjoy your optimistic view of things, but, with all respect, SHUT UP!
Ax ruffled his almost-done feathers, and took to the air, heading for the slope.
TSEEEW!
The dracon sliced cleanly through the trees, fires springing up, and Rachel saw - it was actually pretty impossible to miss - the red glare. She felt the sudden heat sear at her fur as it passed. She pushed the fear out of her mind and got up to her feet, stumbling closer to the ashes of the trees. The Yeerks probably wouldn't fire at the same place twice.
I see Prince Jake, Ax announced. He is on a cliff. Approximately a third of the way down.
And the Yeerks? Tobias asked.
They are climbing right up at him.
Tell him to demorph, Rachel said.
It might be harder than that, Ax said. He is unconscious. I am landing and demorphing on the cliff. I will see what I can do.
She turned her head to the side, gasping for air, still not really knowing what she was doing. She coughed from the smoke that entered her lungs. And gasped again. Something heavy was lying across her chest.
She pushed at it with her hands. The surface was rough, but burning hot. It was bright enough, with the fires burning not far from her, to see that it was what remained of a tree trunk. It was still solid enough to be heavy, but the bark had been turned into coal, and the skin on her hands sizzled as she pushed it away and crawled out from under it.
Still, she realized that the tree had saved her from being burned. Trees and bushes were burning all around her, flames both far away and so near that they almost touched her.
She felt her arms and face with trembling fingers. Not only were her fingers burned and bloody, but so was her face. Her entire body was scratched and blistered. Her skin had melted away along her arms. She'd be amazed if anyone recognized her for who she was.
She wrinkled her forehead, causing a flash of pain. Bringing her fingers up to her forehead, she found it sore and blistered, and bleeding.
But she had bigger problems. She had just realized that she had no idea of who she was.
Flames danced around her as she spent a few minutes trying to remember her name. But she remembered nothing - not who she was, not what she was supposed to be doing. Or where she was from.
There was only one thing. A feeling of sadness. A horrible feeling, so dark that she pushed it out of her mind instantly, shivering at the thought of what could have had caused it.
She stood up, and almost fell straight down again. Her entire body was trembling with exhaustion. But with pure willpower she stayed up. Focused her mind on that single thing, standing up.
There was a stone wall to her left. The fire didn't burn as much there. She stumbled over to it, thinking she could perhaps climb it, but one touch on the rocky wall was enough to give that idea up. The rocks themselves were heated up by the fire and the skin on her fingertips gave off a sizzling sound as she touched them.
Suddenly a coldness swept over her. Fear joined it, as she began hearing voices. Loud, rough voices, speaking a guttural language.
She might not have known who she was, but she knew one thing; those speaking were not her friends. She looked out over the scene, searching for the source of the voices.
There. Lizard-like, bladed creatures, tall enough for her not to even reach their armpits. They carried weapons, although their blades were all the weapons anyone could ever ask for. They were working frantically with putting out the fire.
However much her skin was burnt, however little remained of her hair and clothes, she was thankful to the fire. It had kept her hidden.
But now it was time to get away. She focused her mind again, gathered what strength she had left, and began stumbling away. she kept close to the rocks, but made sure not to touch them. The soles of her feet burnt and stung for every step, and every breath made her cough from smoke. The heat burned at her, and she must have tripped a million times by the time she had left the fire behind her.
Only then did she stop to rest.
*0:00:00 REMAINING*
Reith looked out over the valley. In the dark, his Hork-Bajir host's eyes were useless. But with the bug fighters above, flashing their lights at everything that moved and firing their dracons to keep every enemy more or less in the proper place, he could see all he needed to see.
He scanned the valley until he saw it. The tiger. Roaring and fighting for his life, fighting for the life of others, his… friends. His fellow rebels.
Reith formed a horrible smile with his host's mouth. The tiger appealed to him. It was a graceful, deadly animal. It was liquid steel. Every movement controlled, calculated, lethal. Reith promised himself that as soon as Visser One had given him a morphable host, he would acquire a tiger.
Reith set the dracon in his hand to just over medium power and raised his hand to motion to those who followed him to do the same.
"Sub-Visser," a Hork-Bajir-Controller just behind Reith said in a low voice. "Shall we proceed according to plan?"
Reith nodded. He fought down his host's sudden revolt, beat him back into a corner of his mind, and stood up, slowly. "Follow me," he said, and advanced down into the valley.
There was a resistance to crush. Every fiber in Reith's stolen body quivered with excitement. This was a very important night. A very important battle. If he succeeded, he would surly be given a morphable host. Visser One would have to reward him if he succeeded.
Ler fought him. It didn't matter. Reith was stronger. Reith was Yeerk.
Reith was well-known for beating and crushing strong minds beneath his own.
Jake opened his eyes slowly. He had a agonizing headache; that was the first thing he noticed.
The second thing was the growing pain in his side.
Someone was kicking at him. not hard, but hard enough to hurt. Jake focused his uncooperative eyes and looked up at Ax.
Demorph! Ax ordered, and stopped kicking.
Jake didn't even try standing up. His front legs had already told him - in a very noticeable way - that they wouldn't be working any more. He began demorphing, as fast as he could.
What's happened?
I believe the Yeerks know we're here, Ax said.
Why do you think so?
Because the bug fighters have started firing at us, here on the slope. It costs them a lot of their own, but Yeerks have never cared about that.
TSEEEW!
The ground shook and Ax's back hooves scrambled to get a better grip. The ledge wasn't really large enough for a tiger and a standing Andalite.
Correction. A tiger and a human. Jake got to his feet and looked over the scene. Or looked over what he could see of it - it was still dark.
Maybe we should leave, Ax suggested.
"Where is Tobias and Rachel?"
Hopefully, Ax began, They are not up on the ledge. Hopefully, they have disappeared by now.
"Why do you say 'hopefully'?" Jake wondered as he began morphing owl.
Ax did the same. Because the Yeerks have almost incinerated the slope from here and upwards. The top is as good as gone.
She found a small stream and washed her hands and face in it. The icy water made her wounds and blisters throb with pain, but she ignored it. She cupped her hands and filled them with water, bringing it up to her mouth to drink.
She drank her fill and then continued. She didn't dare stop to rest again. She felt as if the hounds of hell were hunting her.
Maybe they were.
After some time, when she was far beyond feeling her feet and the pain in her legs and arms was on the limit for what she could bear, she began hearing the battle.
Weapons being fired. Screams. Cries of anguish and fear, roars of spite and hate and triumph. Shrieks of the wounded, and… laughs.
Laughs. Yes. Someone was enjoying the slaughter.
She huddled down against a tree, wrapping her arms around herself, breathing hard and wondering what to do.
She had two ways to go. Back to the fire, and the ones she knew were her enemies. Or forwards. Towards the battle between the unknown.
Better the enemy you know, she said to herself, just to hear a voice. Than the enemy you don't know.
Then she corrected herself. She didn't know either of the enemies. She knew nothing. She had even been surprised at how her voice sounded, as if she'd never heard it before.
But she swallowed her fears, forcing forwards courage that she didn't know she had, and decided that whoever was trying to put that fire out behind her scared her more than anything that could come up in front.
She began sneaking forwards. Or trying to; it was more like stumbling. She kept close to the ground, hoping not to be seen, but she had a feeling that the people doing the fighting didn't stop at using just their eyes.
Marco! Get out of here! Jake snapped.
Marco turned a gorilla head to look at his friend, at the same time remodeling a Hork-Bajir face with his fist. He registered Jake's order and was almost shocked. Jake asked him - expected him - to, when it really mattered, turn tail and run?
No.
If you're staying, I'm staying!
Jake honored him with one of those rare, friendly looks. Maybe relieved, maybe saddened. Maybe both. You know we're losing this one, Marco.
Marco punched another Hork-Bajir. Yeah, he said. I am painfully aware of that. Don't remind me. We should have hurried more to move camp. A few seconds faster, and…
'Should have' won't help us now, Jake said. I'm going to find the Chee. See if I can at least get them out.
Good luck.
You too, buddy.
As Jake leaped away, Marco wondered if he'd ever see his friend again.
The thought distracted him just a second too long. Marco roared in anguish as a Hork-Bajir blade cut deep into his shoulder, through bone and flesh, and Marco's arm fell to the ground with a thump.
He punched out wildly with his remaining arm, caught the Hork-bAjir in the chest and sent him flying through the air and landing hard on the ground. But another took his place, and slashed across Marco's chest. Marco grabbed his throat, crushing it in his hands, holding the Hork-Bajir at arm's length.
When the Hork-Bajir went limp, Marco let go, took a deep breath, and decided - with a look at his arm, lying on the ground, fingers still twitching - that it was time to find a safe place to demorph and remorph.
He hurried into what he hoped was enough shelter, among the trees and bushes, and sat down. He pushed the pain in his shoulder out of his mind and focused on his human shape.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Marco turned back to human. The pain disappeared. When he was done, he shook his arm carefully, making sure it was working.
And heard a noise behind him. He looked up and saw the shadow of a Hork-Bajir, creeping closer, eyeing the area carefully.
Too late to start morphing again. Marco moved quickly and silently, a skill learned after years of hiding and fleeing, being careful not to step on anything that made a sound. He fled up into a tree, chose a branch to sit on about seven meter up, and stayed perfectly still.
People usually don't see what's above their own heads. Marco knew from experience that that was also true about Hork-Bajir. Especially something that far above their heads.
But aside from watching the Hork-Bajir come closer and closer, another movement caught his eye. Marco turned his head - slowly, of course - to see better.
It was a young woman, trying to hurry from the shadow of one tree to the next. She wasn't very good at it, unfortunately for her, and ran like someone who wasn't used to moving - actually, like Ax the first times he had morphed human, Marco realized with a faint smile.
There was a problem. She was heading straight for the Hork-Bajir.
Marco knew the chances that the Hork-Bajir wouldn't notice her were as good as zero. He also knew that, if she didn't get away, she'd be killed. Or worse; captured.
Marco didn't know why he cared. He had more important issues to deal with then one, alone woman about to meet her fate. But there was something that made his entire being feel sickened with the thought of doing nothing.
So he began looking around for a weapon. There was still no time to morph.
He saw a dead branch half-way down, under his own branch. It was the perfect shape - long, more or less straight and neither too thick or too thin - and it was in the perfect place. He'd just catch hold of it as he dropped to the ground. His weight and momentum would break if off, and he could swing it at the Hork-Bajir's head.
If he didn't move quickly enough he'd be dead.
If the branch didn't break, he'd be dead as well.
Not Marco's favorite type of plan. But he didn't feel he had any choice.
So when the Hork-Bajir was beneath him, he was already hanging from his branch by his fingers, with five meters of drop beneath his feet and a strong feeling that maybe this had been a bad idea.
Too late to change his mind. He dropped from his branch, fell downwards, caught the dead branch in his hand…
The Hork-Bajir heard him falling and turned his head upwards. A look of surprise began forming…
Marco's fingers slipped from the branch and he continued the fall - branchless.
The Hork-Bajir began raising an arm…
And Marco's heels slammed into his face.
The Hork-Bajir slumped together without giving out a single sound. Marco fell to the ground, landed hard, and cursed as he dropped and rolled and still managed to slam hands and feet and knees and elbows onto the ground.
He got up again, looking up at the branch that had failed to break. "Stupid thing," he said lowly. "You almost got me killed. Happy?!"
The branch was indifferent as he continued to swear, rubbing his wrists and ankles and making sure that nothing was broken. In fact, the branch had saved him; not many would be able to take a fall like that. And Marco was definitely not among them. Although his fingers had been scratched raw from the branch's rough bark, it had slowed him down enough to land on the ground without being badly hurt.
The woman had drawn back into a shadow, but Marco could still find her by using his ears. She was obviously frightened, her breath coming in hoarse gasps.
"Come out," he said. "He's…" he kicked at the Hork-Bajir, trying to determine his condition "…unconscious."
The woman stayed where she was. Marco peered at her. "I won't hurt you."
Still, no reaction. Marco sighed and tried again. "Look, I can't let you stay here. They'll get you if you stay here. I know a place that's safe. Well, I won't lie to you, but it's safer than here."
She said nothing. Stayed where she was for what must have been a minute. But then she made up her mind and stood up, slowly. Marco nodded, once, and held out his hand.
"Come on," he said. "We don't have all day."
She didn't take his hand. But she stepped up closer, signaling that she'd follow.
Marco led the way through the very well-known valley and down to the hiding-place he'd mentioned. He helped her hide from the Hork-Bajir that were looking for victims, used branches to pop any Taxxons that came too close, and even managed to steal a dracon from a human-Controller and held it out for her to take.
She hesitated, but then took it. And he got a good look at her hands; or what was left of them. She had been badly burnt. Marco guessed that she'd been by that fire that had shone up the sky on their east flank. And he also guessed that the Yeerks were coming from that direction as well. Because otherwise, she'd have fled away from camp and not towards camp.
He decided to tell Jake about the passage being used by another army.
But first, he led the burnt woman to the cave he had decided was more or less safe. He was the only one that knew about it; he used to sit there and think, take some time off. And it was hidden behind a small waterfall, so it wasn't easy to spot.
"Come on," Marco said, motioning towards the cave's opening and showing her that there was one behind the waterfall. "In there. And stay there until it's safe to come out."
She looked up at him. Clutching the dracon in both hands, she swallowed hard and easily squeezed in through the crack that was the caves opening. Immediately she was out of sight. Marco knew that the cave was cozy once you were inside, but the opening was minimal. He himself had to morph partly to something small to get in. So she was definitely safe from Hork-Bajir. And in case things got bad, she had the dracon.
"Stay in there until it's safe," Marco said. Then sighed. He realized that if he was caught and infested, they would find her in the cave as easily as they'd have found her among the trees. "But not too long."
Thank you.
Marco nodded, made sure no-one had seen them, faked a smile for himself and snuck away silently.
Only when it was too late to turn back did he realize that she had spoken in thought-speech.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's note;
*Phew*, that one took some time to write. But it turned out pretty good, huh? At least I like it.
Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret here. I was planning to have this story end "the bad way". *Considering that I love to put these characters through hell, that wasn't so hard to guess, was it?* But I grew tired of the idea and in this part I changed it back to "happily ever after". Maybe I'll change it again, maybe I won't.
Next part soon. *Okay, so that's turning into a standard phrase. Maybe I should try to find a new one.* Don't forget to review.
*0:17:00 REMAINING*
Jake! Rachel cried. Where are you?
There was no answer. Only darkness and silence.
Jake! Demorph! Tobias called.
He fell down the slope, Ax said. I saw the tiger's silhouette in the dracon's red light. He went over the edge.
Tobias went through a complicated list of well-chosen bad words.
Watch your tongue, Rachel snapped warningly.
Maybe, Tobias replied, for the moment completely indifferent to his language. Ax? We need night-eyes.
Ax nodded (which was still a useless gesture when no-one can see anything) and began morphing the owl.
Jake! Rachel called again. You okay?
If he fell all the way down, he's history, Tobias remarked.
Tobias? Rachel said. We all enjoy your optimistic view of things, but, with all respect, SHUT UP!
Ax ruffled his almost-done feathers, and took to the air, heading for the slope.
TSEEEW!
The dracon sliced cleanly through the trees, fires springing up, and Rachel saw - it was actually pretty impossible to miss - the red glare. She felt the sudden heat sear at her fur as it passed. She pushed the fear out of her mind and got up to her feet, stumbling closer to the ashes of the trees. The Yeerks probably wouldn't fire at the same place twice.
I see Prince Jake, Ax announced. He is on a cliff. Approximately a third of the way down.
And the Yeerks? Tobias asked.
They are climbing right up at him.
Tell him to demorph, Rachel said.
It might be harder than that, Ax said. He is unconscious. I am landing and demorphing on the cliff. I will see what I can do.
She turned her head to the side, gasping for air, still not really knowing what she was doing. She coughed from the smoke that entered her lungs. And gasped again. Something heavy was lying across her chest.
She pushed at it with her hands. The surface was rough, but burning hot. It was bright enough, with the fires burning not far from her, to see that it was what remained of a tree trunk. It was still solid enough to be heavy, but the bark had been turned into coal, and the skin on her hands sizzled as she pushed it away and crawled out from under it.
Still, she realized that the tree had saved her from being burned. Trees and bushes were burning all around her, flames both far away and so near that they almost touched her.
She felt her arms and face with trembling fingers. Not only were her fingers burned and bloody, but so was her face. Her entire body was scratched and blistered. Her skin had melted away along her arms. She'd be amazed if anyone recognized her for who she was.
She wrinkled her forehead, causing a flash of pain. Bringing her fingers up to her forehead, she found it sore and blistered, and bleeding.
But she had bigger problems. She had just realized that she had no idea of who she was.
Flames danced around her as she spent a few minutes trying to remember her name. But she remembered nothing - not who she was, not what she was supposed to be doing. Or where she was from.
There was only one thing. A feeling of sadness. A horrible feeling, so dark that she pushed it out of her mind instantly, shivering at the thought of what could have had caused it.
She stood up, and almost fell straight down again. Her entire body was trembling with exhaustion. But with pure willpower she stayed up. Focused her mind on that single thing, standing up.
There was a stone wall to her left. The fire didn't burn as much there. She stumbled over to it, thinking she could perhaps climb it, but one touch on the rocky wall was enough to give that idea up. The rocks themselves were heated up by the fire and the skin on her fingertips gave off a sizzling sound as she touched them.
Suddenly a coldness swept over her. Fear joined it, as she began hearing voices. Loud, rough voices, speaking a guttural language.
She might not have known who she was, but she knew one thing; those speaking were not her friends. She looked out over the scene, searching for the source of the voices.
There. Lizard-like, bladed creatures, tall enough for her not to even reach their armpits. They carried weapons, although their blades were all the weapons anyone could ever ask for. They were working frantically with putting out the fire.
However much her skin was burnt, however little remained of her hair and clothes, she was thankful to the fire. It had kept her hidden.
But now it was time to get away. She focused her mind again, gathered what strength she had left, and began stumbling away. she kept close to the rocks, but made sure not to touch them. The soles of her feet burnt and stung for every step, and every breath made her cough from smoke. The heat burned at her, and she must have tripped a million times by the time she had left the fire behind her.
Only then did she stop to rest.
*0:00:00 REMAINING*
Reith looked out over the valley. In the dark, his Hork-Bajir host's eyes were useless. But with the bug fighters above, flashing their lights at everything that moved and firing their dracons to keep every enemy more or less in the proper place, he could see all he needed to see.
He scanned the valley until he saw it. The tiger. Roaring and fighting for his life, fighting for the life of others, his… friends. His fellow rebels.
Reith formed a horrible smile with his host's mouth. The tiger appealed to him. It was a graceful, deadly animal. It was liquid steel. Every movement controlled, calculated, lethal. Reith promised himself that as soon as Visser One had given him a morphable host, he would acquire a tiger.
Reith set the dracon in his hand to just over medium power and raised his hand to motion to those who followed him to do the same.
"Sub-Visser," a Hork-Bajir-Controller just behind Reith said in a low voice. "Shall we proceed according to plan?"
Reith nodded. He fought down his host's sudden revolt, beat him back into a corner of his mind, and stood up, slowly. "Follow me," he said, and advanced down into the valley.
There was a resistance to crush. Every fiber in Reith's stolen body quivered with excitement. This was a very important night. A very important battle. If he succeeded, he would surly be given a morphable host. Visser One would have to reward him if he succeeded.
Ler fought him. It didn't matter. Reith was stronger. Reith was Yeerk.
Reith was well-known for beating and crushing strong minds beneath his own.
Jake opened his eyes slowly. He had a agonizing headache; that was the first thing he noticed.
The second thing was the growing pain in his side.
Someone was kicking at him. not hard, but hard enough to hurt. Jake focused his uncooperative eyes and looked up at Ax.
Demorph! Ax ordered, and stopped kicking.
Jake didn't even try standing up. His front legs had already told him - in a very noticeable way - that they wouldn't be working any more. He began demorphing, as fast as he could.
What's happened?
I believe the Yeerks know we're here, Ax said.
Why do you think so?
Because the bug fighters have started firing at us, here on the slope. It costs them a lot of their own, but Yeerks have never cared about that.
TSEEEW!
The ground shook and Ax's back hooves scrambled to get a better grip. The ledge wasn't really large enough for a tiger and a standing Andalite.
Correction. A tiger and a human. Jake got to his feet and looked over the scene. Or looked over what he could see of it - it was still dark.
Maybe we should leave, Ax suggested.
"Where is Tobias and Rachel?"
Hopefully, Ax began, They are not up on the ledge. Hopefully, they have disappeared by now.
"Why do you say 'hopefully'?" Jake wondered as he began morphing owl.
Ax did the same. Because the Yeerks have almost incinerated the slope from here and upwards. The top is as good as gone.
She found a small stream and washed her hands and face in it. The icy water made her wounds and blisters throb with pain, but she ignored it. She cupped her hands and filled them with water, bringing it up to her mouth to drink.
She drank her fill and then continued. She didn't dare stop to rest again. She felt as if the hounds of hell were hunting her.
Maybe they were.
After some time, when she was far beyond feeling her feet and the pain in her legs and arms was on the limit for what she could bear, she began hearing the battle.
Weapons being fired. Screams. Cries of anguish and fear, roars of spite and hate and triumph. Shrieks of the wounded, and… laughs.
Laughs. Yes. Someone was enjoying the slaughter.
She huddled down against a tree, wrapping her arms around herself, breathing hard and wondering what to do.
She had two ways to go. Back to the fire, and the ones she knew were her enemies. Or forwards. Towards the battle between the unknown.
Better the enemy you know, she said to herself, just to hear a voice. Than the enemy you don't know.
Then she corrected herself. She didn't know either of the enemies. She knew nothing. She had even been surprised at how her voice sounded, as if she'd never heard it before.
But she swallowed her fears, forcing forwards courage that she didn't know she had, and decided that whoever was trying to put that fire out behind her scared her more than anything that could come up in front.
She began sneaking forwards. Or trying to; it was more like stumbling. She kept close to the ground, hoping not to be seen, but she had a feeling that the people doing the fighting didn't stop at using just their eyes.
Marco! Get out of here! Jake snapped.
Marco turned a gorilla head to look at his friend, at the same time remodeling a Hork-Bajir face with his fist. He registered Jake's order and was almost shocked. Jake asked him - expected him - to, when it really mattered, turn tail and run?
No.
If you're staying, I'm staying!
Jake honored him with one of those rare, friendly looks. Maybe relieved, maybe saddened. Maybe both. You know we're losing this one, Marco.
Marco punched another Hork-Bajir. Yeah, he said. I am painfully aware of that. Don't remind me. We should have hurried more to move camp. A few seconds faster, and…
'Should have' won't help us now, Jake said. I'm going to find the Chee. See if I can at least get them out.
Good luck.
You too, buddy.
As Jake leaped away, Marco wondered if he'd ever see his friend again.
The thought distracted him just a second too long. Marco roared in anguish as a Hork-Bajir blade cut deep into his shoulder, through bone and flesh, and Marco's arm fell to the ground with a thump.
He punched out wildly with his remaining arm, caught the Hork-bAjir in the chest and sent him flying through the air and landing hard on the ground. But another took his place, and slashed across Marco's chest. Marco grabbed his throat, crushing it in his hands, holding the Hork-Bajir at arm's length.
When the Hork-Bajir went limp, Marco let go, took a deep breath, and decided - with a look at his arm, lying on the ground, fingers still twitching - that it was time to find a safe place to demorph and remorph.
He hurried into what he hoped was enough shelter, among the trees and bushes, and sat down. He pushed the pain in his shoulder out of his mind and focused on his human shape.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Marco turned back to human. The pain disappeared. When he was done, he shook his arm carefully, making sure it was working.
And heard a noise behind him. He looked up and saw the shadow of a Hork-Bajir, creeping closer, eyeing the area carefully.
Too late to start morphing again. Marco moved quickly and silently, a skill learned after years of hiding and fleeing, being careful not to step on anything that made a sound. He fled up into a tree, chose a branch to sit on about seven meter up, and stayed perfectly still.
People usually don't see what's above their own heads. Marco knew from experience that that was also true about Hork-Bajir. Especially something that far above their heads.
But aside from watching the Hork-Bajir come closer and closer, another movement caught his eye. Marco turned his head - slowly, of course - to see better.
It was a young woman, trying to hurry from the shadow of one tree to the next. She wasn't very good at it, unfortunately for her, and ran like someone who wasn't used to moving - actually, like Ax the first times he had morphed human, Marco realized with a faint smile.
There was a problem. She was heading straight for the Hork-Bajir.
Marco knew the chances that the Hork-Bajir wouldn't notice her were as good as zero. He also knew that, if she didn't get away, she'd be killed. Or worse; captured.
Marco didn't know why he cared. He had more important issues to deal with then one, alone woman about to meet her fate. But there was something that made his entire being feel sickened with the thought of doing nothing.
So he began looking around for a weapon. There was still no time to morph.
He saw a dead branch half-way down, under his own branch. It was the perfect shape - long, more or less straight and neither too thick or too thin - and it was in the perfect place. He'd just catch hold of it as he dropped to the ground. His weight and momentum would break if off, and he could swing it at the Hork-Bajir's head.
If he didn't move quickly enough he'd be dead.
If the branch didn't break, he'd be dead as well.
Not Marco's favorite type of plan. But he didn't feel he had any choice.
So when the Hork-Bajir was beneath him, he was already hanging from his branch by his fingers, with five meters of drop beneath his feet and a strong feeling that maybe this had been a bad idea.
Too late to change his mind. He dropped from his branch, fell downwards, caught the dead branch in his hand…
The Hork-Bajir heard him falling and turned his head upwards. A look of surprise began forming…
Marco's fingers slipped from the branch and he continued the fall - branchless.
The Hork-Bajir began raising an arm…
And Marco's heels slammed into his face.
The Hork-Bajir slumped together without giving out a single sound. Marco fell to the ground, landed hard, and cursed as he dropped and rolled and still managed to slam hands and feet and knees and elbows onto the ground.
He got up again, looking up at the branch that had failed to break. "Stupid thing," he said lowly. "You almost got me killed. Happy?!"
The branch was indifferent as he continued to swear, rubbing his wrists and ankles and making sure that nothing was broken. In fact, the branch had saved him; not many would be able to take a fall like that. And Marco was definitely not among them. Although his fingers had been scratched raw from the branch's rough bark, it had slowed him down enough to land on the ground without being badly hurt.
The woman had drawn back into a shadow, but Marco could still find her by using his ears. She was obviously frightened, her breath coming in hoarse gasps.
"Come out," he said. "He's…" he kicked at the Hork-Bajir, trying to determine his condition "…unconscious."
The woman stayed where she was. Marco peered at her. "I won't hurt you."
Still, no reaction. Marco sighed and tried again. "Look, I can't let you stay here. They'll get you if you stay here. I know a place that's safe. Well, I won't lie to you, but it's safer than here."
She said nothing. Stayed where she was for what must have been a minute. But then she made up her mind and stood up, slowly. Marco nodded, once, and held out his hand.
"Come on," he said. "We don't have all day."
She didn't take his hand. But she stepped up closer, signaling that she'd follow.
Marco led the way through the very well-known valley and down to the hiding-place he'd mentioned. He helped her hide from the Hork-Bajir that were looking for victims, used branches to pop any Taxxons that came too close, and even managed to steal a dracon from a human-Controller and held it out for her to take.
She hesitated, but then took it. And he got a good look at her hands; or what was left of them. She had been badly burnt. Marco guessed that she'd been by that fire that had shone up the sky on their east flank. And he also guessed that the Yeerks were coming from that direction as well. Because otherwise, she'd have fled away from camp and not towards camp.
He decided to tell Jake about the passage being used by another army.
But first, he led the burnt woman to the cave he had decided was more or less safe. He was the only one that knew about it; he used to sit there and think, take some time off. And it was hidden behind a small waterfall, so it wasn't easy to spot.
"Come on," Marco said, motioning towards the cave's opening and showing her that there was one behind the waterfall. "In there. And stay there until it's safe to come out."
She looked up at him. Clutching the dracon in both hands, she swallowed hard and easily squeezed in through the crack that was the caves opening. Immediately she was out of sight. Marco knew that the cave was cozy once you were inside, but the opening was minimal. He himself had to morph partly to something small to get in. So she was definitely safe from Hork-Bajir. And in case things got bad, she had the dracon.
"Stay in there until it's safe," Marco said. Then sighed. He realized that if he was caught and infested, they would find her in the cave as easily as they'd have found her among the trees. "But not too long."
Thank you.
Marco nodded, made sure no-one had seen them, faked a smile for himself and snuck away silently.
Only when it was too late to turn back did he realize that she had spoken in thought-speech.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's note;
*Phew*, that one took some time to write. But it turned out pretty good, huh? At least I like it.
Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret here. I was planning to have this story end "the bad way". *Considering that I love to put these characters through hell, that wasn't so hard to guess, was it?* But I grew tired of the idea and in this part I changed it back to "happily ever after". Maybe I'll change it again, maybe I won't.
Next part soon. *Okay, so that's turning into a standard phrase. Maybe I should try to find a new one.* Don't forget to review.
